


The Crown

by catchthatpigeon



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Drabble Collection, F/M, Political Alliances, Reader-Insert, Romance, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, Sniper!Hux, Snippets, Sometimes it feels like I'm just shitting out chapters, and then sometimes it's like constipation, character-insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2018-10-09 03:45:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 6,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10403145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catchthatpigeon/pseuds/catchthatpigeon
Summary: "Chin up, darling," your mother had bitten out with her dying breath, "or the crown will slip."Or in which a female reader ends up bound to General Hux (and in turn, the First Order) in matrimony.





	1. Chin Up

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that more tags, warnings, and characters will be added as the story progresses. 
> 
> Disclaimer: As much as I'd like to own a few of the yummies in series; I am in no shape, or form associated with the Star Wars franchise.

Your mother had been the opposite of your whimsical and jovial father. Regal and the epitome of grace. She had many admirers, and even more enemies that a queen dared to ever want. But alas, the hostile chill in her eyes and the ruthlessness she displayed in court was enough to silence most.  
  
Regardless, her death had been a happy occasion for many.

And unlike your doting father, your mother had never been outwardly affectionate. However, in her own unique way, she had managed to show that everything she had said or done in her life, had been for you and your siblings.

Even at her deathbed, and you remembered the day as if it were yesterday, your mother had managed to appear as regal as ever. Adorned in a silk nightgown that had been nothing but simple, and her hair braided and twisted up into an intricate style, she'd caressed your small face with the tips of her long, glossy nails.

Sliding her hand down your face until it rested at your chin, she pushed your head up so that your [color] gaze met hers. Her skin felt cold, yet her eyes held a flame unlike anything else you'd ever seen in the world.

"Chin up, darling," your mother had bitten out with her dying breath, _"or the crown will slip."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, hello! 
> 
> I haven't written (let alone posted) anything in years, so this is my first time writing anything that I intend to be even remotely proud of. This is going to be a drabble series in a bigger collection of Star Wards related works, and the chapters will most likely vary in length. I appreciate any feedback on how I could improve my writing.
> 
> Thank you, and I hope you enjoy!


	2. Legacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader has an epiphany.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that more tags, warnings, and characters will be added as the story progresses.
> 
> Disclaimer: As much as I'd like to own a few of the yummies in series; I am in no shape, or form associated with the Star Wars franchise.
> 
> This chapter was not beta read, and therefore I apologize for any mistakes.

You’d like to think that your mother had loved your father as much as he had loved her, his one and only queen. Well, at least in her own peculiar way. But alas, what the multitude of nannies that had come and gone through the golden double doors of the nursery whispered in hushed tones, had not quite match up with your childlike fancies.

Despite the naivety of youth, you were still your mother’s child. Despite not being able to fully understand the politics of court and the full implications of many-a-things, you still understood enough of what the masked men and women mumbled. That your dear, darling father had been naught but a mouthpiece to your mother. That your mother, an ambitious harpy of great beauty and brutal cleverness, had only been using him for her own gain; to secure a seat of power for herself.

In your youth, you’d once failed to realize the true implications of such rumors; and as you’d grown into an adolescent, your understanding had twisted, narrowed until you thought ill of your late mother.

Alas, as you laid eyes the rigid man dressed in a crisp, black military uniform; the man that would soon be deeply intertwined with your future, an epiphany had struck you as pale eyes met yours.

With your lips slightly parted, you allowed your betrothed naught but a brief glimpse, before withdrawing behind the many curtains of leaves, and vines, and flowers of the garden your father had dedicated to your mother many years ago.

She hadn’t done it for the power.

_But for her legacy._


	3. Babe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First spoken words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that more tags, warnings, and characters will be added as the story progresses.
> 
> Disclaimer: As much as I'd like to own a few of the yummies in series; I am in no shape, or form associated with the Star Wars franchise.
> 
> This chapter has not been beta read.

Dressed in your best summer gown, thin with layers and fastened with many-a clasps with a modest neckline, you joined your father in the great hall where a banquet had been laid out in honor of your... guests. You felt your younger siblings breeze past you, their airy giggles echoing in the tall and vibrant hallways. The youngest one latched onto your hand, small pudgy fingers curling tightly around your fingers.

Wide eyes stared up at your with such wonder.

“What’s wrong, biscuit?” you hummed softly at the young child who was barely old enough to run. “Where’s your nanny?” you hummed softly as you collected the small child into your arms.

But before the babe could bubble out a response, the sharp  _ click _ of boots halting against the white marble floors caused your attention to snap from your sibling to the source of the sharp sound.

The small child in your arms stilled as your body subconsciously tensed at the pale man dressed in black; uniform just as impeccable as it had been the other day in the garden.

Fortunately, the standoff had been clipped short when Armitage Hux folded his hands behind his back and tilted his chin up

“Princess [Your Name],” he droned out with a curt nod. 

Readjusting your sibling until they rested against your hip, you curtsied; brief and as polite as you could manage.

“General Hux.”


	4. Heavy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was almost delicate in design when compared to its companion ring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that more tags, warnings, and characters will be added as the story progresses.
> 
> Disclaimer: As much as I'd like to own a few of the yummies in series; I am in no shape, or form associated with the Star Wars franchise.
> 
> This chapter has not been beta read.

The thin band around your ring finger, was silver in color and plainer than most of the rings you possessed.

It was almost delicate in design when compared to its companion ring. For Hux’s ring was even plainer; only a silver band about 4 millimeters thick. 

No marks.

No inscriptions.

Polished and clean; just like its owner.

“It's heavy,” you remarked softly, breaking the silence in the cabin for the first time since you'd stepped in it.

“It's because they're made out of platinum,” your husband replied a moment later. His eyes never left the screen of his tablet.


	5. Small

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your mother’s whispers from a time long gone came rushing back. You bit back a choked sob.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that more tags, warnings, and characters will be added as the story progresses.
> 
> Disclaimer: As much as I'd like to own a few of the yummies in series; I am in no shape, or form associated with the Star Wars franchise.
> 
> This chapter has not been beta read.

When you’d left your home planet after the brief wedding and even more brief reception, you’d been rushed to your chambers by hasty maids per your father and father-in-law’s instructions. As it turned out, the First Order had little time to waste on weddings, and being a rather important figure, your husband wished to return to his duties as quickly as possible.

Much to your relief, your wedding night was to be postponed until a later date.

Standing in the middle of your room in your night gown, a thin thing, seeing that the nights in your home planet still somehow managed to remain quite warm; you watched as the maids bustled about, pulling dresses and garb out of your extensive closet. Your delicates were carefully packed away, and your jewelry and cosmetics had been sorted through and placed away as well.

It all seemed so _surreal._

What would your mother say if she saw you in such a state? Dazed as if you’d been struck to the chest? Something caught your attention from the corner of your eye, and your head snapped up.

“What’s that?” you’d demanded, tone sharper than you’d intended it to be. The startled maid paused before turning her head down to the dark and heavy robe in her hands. You’d never seen it in your life.

“W-we were instructed to pack heavier clothing for you, your highness,” the young woman explained meekly. “A new shipment of clothing had been ordered for you. Your father had us put them away until it was time for you to leave with your new husband, your highness.”

_Did she see your mother in you at that moment?_ You wondered as you approached the girl. She visibly flinched as you raised your hand, and at the look on her eyes, you hesitated. _She did, didn’t she?_ Your hand dropped down to the coat, and your fingers combed slowly through the soft fur.

“We were told that it will be cold wherever it is that you are going, your highness.”

Her voice was small.

_Things are going to change for you very soon, my precious,_ your mother’s whispers from a time long gone came rushing back. You bit back a choked sob.

_You_ felt small.

 


	6. Foreign

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the reader feels yet another part of herself die.

Hux had encouraged you to change out of the light gown you’d been wearing when you had first boarded the ship. As it turned out, you were fast approaching your destination, and the young handmaiden’s words rang through your head. Nodding mutely, you disappeared into the spacious lavatory after collecting some pieces from the few cases you’d been allowed to bring. Apparently your clothing situation would be taken care of once you arrived at your new residence. 

The boots felt foreign, and the thick cloth almost oppressive. You stepped out of the lavatory while readjusting the clasps of your top before glancing over Hux whom had barely stood up from his seat. You folded your hands neatly in front of you as if expecting some kind of critique.

Alas, it never came.

You screamed on the inside; yet another part of you dying. You felt out of place in this ship; among the First Order. Your chest felt heavy like the coat you’d inquired about the previous night, and your gut twisted wickedly with anxiety.

_ Chin up. _

Squaring your shoulders and unlacing your fingers, you stepped towards the small kitchen area for a beverage.

_ Or the crown will slip. _

You could barely convince yourself to do so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like a decent part of this drabble series is going to be character development for the reader, since, you know, you went from being a single princess living on a warm planet with a lot of pretty and colorful dresses to suddenly being married and then promptly shipped off into space with your military general husband.
> 
> I sincerely hope this isn't too boring? Again, I haven't written in a very long time and this is the first time I've written anything for Hux. I always appreciate any constructive criticism sent my! Again, thank you for reading.


	7. Breathless

As your husband led you to the massive window of the vessel’s command deck, the sight managed to take your breath away. Removing your hand from the crook of his elbow, you took a step towards the thick glass and placed the tips of your fingers on the cold surface.

The giant _superweapon_ almost winking at you from the planet’s core had managed to leave you both terrified and starstruck.

_They called it Starkiller Base._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter is short. :'^)


	8. Serpents

Cold was the understatement of the century. Pulling up the collar of your fur coat to shield yourself from the frigid winds of Starkiller Base, you trailed after after the General like a lost animal. The hangar bustled with activity as personnel swarmed in either to busy themselves with the vessels that were steadily coming in and leaving port. There was a landing crew ready to greet and update the copper haired general. 

Uncertainty gripped at your stomach fiercely as you took in all the voices and faces dressed in black and white.

“Miss [First Name].”

General Hux’s voice cut through your overwhelmed and jumbled thoughts like a hot knife through butter, and your attention snapped to him. Surrounded by his staff, he held his arm out to you expectantly.

You quietly accepted the offered limb and stepped to his side.

The small, gesture drew eyes, and despite growing up in a vicious court, surrounded by men and women with malicious intents, you found yourself unnerved by it. Perhaps it was the unfamiliarity of it all.

“Mrs. Hux,” one of the uniformed men greeted with a polite dip of his head. His smile was tight and failed to reach his eyes. “It is a pleasure to have you aboard.”  _ Was it, though?  _ You thought as you offered a polite smile and greeting of your own.

_ Never look at their mouths, my daughter,  _ your mother had whispered into your hair one evening as she’d whisked you away from the eyes and grasps of her foes.  _ Always go for their eyes, and the treacherous serpents will be revealed to you. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still getting back into the swing of creative writing but I must say, I'm especially satisfied with this chapter. I'm especially enjoying writing the reader's mother! The bit about looking at peoples eyes rather than their mouths is from an peer reviewed journal that I'd found while doing some background research for my observational study. 
> 
> The study measured various smiles (i.e., genuine and happy smiles, fake [unhappy] smiles, and no smiles) and the general judgments/opinions that people would form based off of the smiles. One of the things that the authors had noticed was that when the participants focused on the mouths first, they were more likely to perceive the face to be happy rather than unhappy regardless whether the smile was genuine or fake.
> 
> Of course, with these kinds of studies correlation doesn't always mean causation, but I personally found the correlation to be fascinating and wanted to incorporate that into the writing somehow. Anyways, we'll explore more of the environment that the reader grew up in later chapters :^)


	9. Machine

Hux insisted that he personally show you to your  _ shared  _ quarters. The prospect of sharing living space with him was daunting, but you opted to straighten your back and allow the man to lead you away. 

The walk through the base had been almost… disorienting. Clusters of stormtroopers marched up and down, and around what seemed like never ending hallways, each one mirroring the next and previous one. The whole base operated like a well oiled machine; for each man and woman aboard knew exactly where they fit in.

Your husband must have caught the look upon your face, for he pulled you closer and said:

“In time you will learn your part.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on a roll, I've realized.


	10. Millicent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The cat purred contently as Hux’s gloved finger rubbed against her cheek.

You honestly didn’t know what you had been expecting when you entered your new quarters, but something akin to a loft had not been it. Like the rest of the base, the general theme of the loft was clean, minimal, and  _ metallic. _ Stepping further into the main room, you heard the door slide shut behind you. To your left was a small sitting area with some shelving units filled with reading material, and to your right there was a small kitchen area with a small island and a round table with some chairs off to the side. 

The rest of the room appeared to be a living area, a room clearly meant for entertaining company. To the far right of the room, you spied a metal staircase leading to a smaller area above the living room. You assumed that was where the bedroom and lavatory was.

Shedding your coat, you draped it over your arms as you took in the details of the living area. It wasn’t very… personalized, as if Hux didn’t spend much time in his quarters. Any decorative pieces appeared as if they were more for show than anything.

“Your belongings will be brought in shortly,” Hux’s voice came from behind you; clipped almost; as if he’d much rather be elsewhere. “There’s a catalog for you, should you wish to purchase more garb.”

But alas, his words barely registered as movement caught your attention.

“You have a cat.” It was not a question, but more of a statement as you watched the colorful creature descent down the staircase, soft meows filling the air as the excited animal trotted over to its master.

“Yes,” Hux responded simply, easily raising the cat into his arms. “She won’t be a problem, will she?”

Turning around to fully face him, you shook your head. In all honesty, you were rather glad to see some kind of organic life in the loft. For a moment you’d considered purchasing a small plant just for the sake of having a splash of color against the starkness of the room.

“What’s her name?”

The cat purred contently as Hux’s gloved finger rubbed against her cheek, but, opted to elegantly twist out of his arms the moment you approached. The cat was quick to dash off and dive under one of the couches.

“Millicent.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always imagined the quarters on Starkiller base to be very sleek, modern, and minimal; black and white with a lot of metal. As for Hux's quarters, I can see him not having a lot of personal items (visible at least), and I can see his living space being very clean and orderly. 
> 
> Also, Millicent's a shy baby. Her "meowing" while walking down the stairs was inspired by that one cat video where the owner is greeted by their cat after they were gone for a few days.
> 
> Note, this chapter was not beta read.


	11. Heat

Your belongings had been delivered to your shared quarters shortly after, and after handing you a data pad with restricted access, the General stepped out with his assistant at his heels like dog running after its master. 

When the door slid shut, you tore your eyes away from where your only (tentative) source of security had been standing not too long ago. Turning around slowly, you took in the appearance of the loft once more, suddenly extremely uncomfortable. Taking a step further into the living area, you allowed your fingers to glaze the surface of one of the white leather couches before sitting down on the stiff surface.

It almost felt as if they'd never been sat on. (With the exception of Hux’s cat, you noted as you spied strands of orange fur.) Reaching for the data pad that you had been gifted, you clutched the item in your grip. Fear gripped your mind.

Despite everything that your mother had whispered to you throughout your youth, it felt as if nothing in all the galaxies could have prepared you for this transition.

You blinked the treacherous tears away, refusing to appear vulnerable in this foreign and cold environment, despite being alone. Drawing in a shaky breath, you set the datapad down before pushing yourself off the couch.

If you were going to be living here, you might as well make it  _ habitable _ .

* * *

 

When Hux returned late that night to a dark and quiet loft, he first noted that your bags had moved from the doorway and Millicent seemed very interested in one of the floor vents.

As he stepped further into the loft, a wave of heat greeted him, stunning the general for a brief moment. Pressing his lips together, he made his way over to the thermostat.

Apparently the heat in the loft jumped up by ten degrees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you know what this means? 
> 
> A mandatory thermostat war just because I can.


	12. Zero-Six Hundred

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breakfast was awkward until Hux had to leave.

You woke up freezing. 

After stumbling about the closet and rifling through the various garbs you had hung up on one of the clothing racks, you pulled a dark, knee-length wool robe over your shoulders. Wrapping the clothing piece around your shivering body, you made your way down the metal stairs and silently cursed at the fact that you had neglected to grab socks.

Once you’d completed your shaky descent, you turned to stare at the thermostat in bewilderment. It had dropped sometime over the night, thought fortunately not as low as if at when you’d first stepped into it. Off to the side, the soft  _ clink _ of something caught your attention. Turning your head, you spied  _ your husband  _ (such a bizarre thought) seated at the kitchen table with what seemed like breakfast and his data pad.

“Good morning,” you greeted hesitantly after a moment of silence before taking a cautious step towards the kitchen.

“Breakfast is delivered at 0600,” the general drawled over the rim of his white coffee cup. “Should you like yours be delivered at a later hour, it can be easily arranged.”

Furrowing your brows, you sat down on the chair across from him and stared at the plate of food that had been left for you.

“No,” you said after a moment, hesitation fraying at the edge of your tone, “zero… 0600 is fine.”

Breakfast was awkward until Hux had to leave. However, before he stepped out into the hallway and left you to your own devices, he paused:

“Millicent has already been fed."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Millicent likes her food.


	13. Undesirable

Days rolled into weeks, and while you and Hux still behaved like polite strangers rather than husband and wife, the two of you had fallen into a steady routine.

He always woke up before you did, but you somehow managed to wake up early enough to have a quiet breakfast together. From thereon you barely saw him until dinner time, though should things around base be hectic enough, you learned not to be surprised if you wouldn’t see him until the very next morning.

You knew that on most nights he’d return to your quarters, for some mornings his half of the bed was still warm. But alas…

Insecurity gripped you tightly one night as you laid in bed, adorned in one of your nicest lingerie and sleeping gowns (that was honestly more of a transparent shirt than anything).

You knew it was customary for many wedded couples to consummate their marriage, but he’d yet to touch you. At first you’d been glad that General Hux hadn’t bedded you, but eventually you grew… worried. You were still his wife, and as a wife you had… certain obligations to fulfill. That being providing him with an heir. Or so you thought.

 _Maybe he doesn’t wish for an heir yet?_ You mused to yourself while twisting and turning in bed. _Maybe… maybe he’s just too busy, or-- or…_

~~_Am I that undesirable to him?_ ~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :^S


	14. Captain Phasma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader finally meets Captain Phasma...

He eventually introduced you to Captain Phasma.

The captain was tall and had been fitted in a modified stormtrooper armor. She, you learned shortly after introductions, carried an air of purpose and confidence, something that you found yourself envy of.

General Hux conversed with the captain for several moments, voice hushed. The captain nodded whenever deemed appropriate and eventually turned to you as General Hux strode off without a second glance. Both the captain and yourself watched him walk off, before focusing on one another.

“I am to show you around the base, and then escort you back to your quarters,” Captain Phasma stated, her arms folded neatly behind her back. Her tone was polite, but you had a feeling that she'd much rather be elsewhere.

And as much as you weren't thrilled to return to your quarters, the tour around the base  _ was _ a nice break away from your normal daily schedule (which didn't amount to much).

“Lead away, then, captain,” you said with a polite nod of your head. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this chapter while waiting for my appointment and then proof read it at home. Hopefully I caught the most of the potentially and glaringly obvious mistakes.


	15. Kylo Ren

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...and Kylo Ren.

The day you'd met Captain Phasma (lovely company when it boiled down to it, at least she actually  _ spoke to you _ ), was the day you'd met Kylo Ren.

As the captain and yourself were about to round the corner, having just toured the training facilities (which you apparently had access to), you ran into a commotion.

Sparks flew, startling you. Shrapnel shot out in various direction and Captain Phasma was quick to step in front of you. Shrinking back yet still trying to peer around the captain’s bulky frame, you caught a glimpse of a figure clad in dark (but what else was new?).

Humming reverberated through the air, and your eyes focused on something red as it viciously dug into the metal panels on the wall, causing more sparks to fly. You flinched once more and clapped your hands to your lips to choke back a gasp.

_ Was that a…? _

The abuse of the wall promptly ceased, while the humming of the lightsaber did not.

“Captain Phasma,” a modulated voice breathed out.

“Kylo Ren,” the said woman acknowledged, her tone about as tense as her tall figure.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :^)


	16. Lie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You're awake."
> 
> "I... I couldn't sleep."

The quiet hiss of the door rang almost loudly throughout the loft. Your [eye color] eyes fluttered open as you were roused from your light and restless slumber. With a soft groan, you rolled to your side to glance at the digital watch on the night side table. 

_ 02:46 _

With a small grunt, you pushed yourself up to a sitting position before daring to touch your toes to the cold floor. You were… getting used to the temperature; it wasn’t quite as warm in the room as you’d like, but…

Wrapping a robe around yourself, covering your bare legs and arms, you made your way down to the living area. 

“General..?” you called out softly from the base of the stairs. You spied his hunched from seated in one of the armchairs by the reading nook, as you’d taken to calling it. With a soft frown, you approached the man. This was… unusual. “Is everything alright?”

There was a sharp inhale as the general sat up straight to face you in the darkness of the loft. He reached up with one hand to comb his hair back before saying:   
  
“Yes, Miss [First Name]. Everything is alright.”

Lie.  _ That’s a lie.  _ Yet you didn’t press it. You stood in front of the general, eyes searching his weary face before turning yourself around. Making your way to a sleek looking liquor table, you pulled out a tumbler and poured what you assumed to be amber colored liquid into the glass. Placing the crystal bottle back down, you picked up the glass before wandering back to General Hux and presenting it to him.

The man accepted the drink after a moment of careful consideration.

“You’re awake,” he said after a particularly long sip. 

“I… I couldn’t sleep,” you admitted softly.

_ It’s cold.  _

“Get some rest,” Hux said, standing up. 

The words slipped through your lips before you could stop yourself.

_ “Come to bed with me.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm being so vague with some of these chapters but I swear I'll expand on them some more in later chapters :^)
> 
> This isn't beta read!


	17. Humor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's awkward. Hux decides to make a joke but then it just gets worse.

Even in the darkness you could see the surprise upon his face. A look of embarrassment flashed across your own before you quickly remedied your statement.   
  
“I-... I meant that you’re probably tired too.” 

Your face flushed and you cleared your throat as you bounced slightly on the balls of your feet. 

“And here I thought you were just happy to see me.”   
  
Despite the barest sliver of humor in his cold and clipped tone, your face flushed even more at his… poor attempt at a joke. When he received no response (save for a strangled noise), he sighed almost harshly.

“Go back to bed,” he said, exhaustion clinging to his voice.

And just as you made your way back to the staircase, you heard him add:   
  
“I’ll be with you shortly.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :^D
> 
> I hope he didn't sound too out of character, ha.


	18. Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hux and the Reader talk.

The next morning which technically was only a handful of hours later, you stirred just in time to watch as the general buttoned up the front of his white button up shirt before tucking it under the waistband of his trousers.

“Good morning,” you mumbled, face half buried in your pillow and blanket. Despite the thick down blanket, your body let out a small shiver. A part of you hoped that Hux would leave the room so that you could migrate to his side of the bed, but alas, he took grooming just as seriously as you did.

There was a pause as Hux shrugged on his jacket and clipped on the belt, before he gave a greeting of his own:

“Yes, good morning.”

Yet he sounded incredibly distracted as he fixed his hair in front of the full body mirror.

After a moment you rolled to the edge of the bed and pushed your covers away, quietly mourning the loss of the warm embrace of your blankets. Pulling on your robe, you trailed after Hux for breakfast.

* * *

 

It was while enjoying your small yet piping hot cup of coffee that the odd thought struck you.

“What… what exactly am I supposed to call you, general?” Thinking more on it, he'd never told you what you were supposed to address him as. You didn't feel like you well him well enough to call him by his given name, let alone ‘husband.’ General Hux sounded too formal, and Hux sounded _almost_ informal. Thus, you'd settled for ‘general.’ He seemed to respond to it, too.

The said general paused, the lower half of his face obscured by his own cup of coffee.

“‘General’ works fine,” he said after a moment. He then placed his cup down on the saucer before adding almost thoughtfully, “though I suppose you may call me Armitage in private, should you wish. We are married after all.”

There was another brief pause.

“My superiors are encouraging me to show more interest in you.”

“I… I’d like that,” you said after processing an array of feelings. At first you'd been… almost offended, yet his words could also imply a few things.

There was also the fact that your marriage had been purely political. Your mother had arranged it when you still had an interest in dolls and pretty baubles. As an avid supporter of the old empire and the First Order, your mother (a very influential and wealthy woman, and queen of a very influential and wealthy planet, mind you) had made an offer to Brendol Hux. The financial, political, and military support of her planet in exchange for a marriage; and should the First Order prove to be successful in uniting the Galaxy under a new empire, you would be named General Armitage Hux’s empress.

In all fairness neither one of you _truly_ had to like (let alone love) one another as long as you gave the impression of a successful and civil marriage.

“Apologies, I did not mean to offend,” Hux remedied, witnessing the expanse of reactions that showed on your face. You held up your hand before shaking your head.

“N-no, it's alright. The contract never stated that we had to like one another for the contract to stay in effect,” you said, idly staring into your coffee. _Look at him. Your husband should **never** be your superior._ You glanced up to meet Hux’s impassive gaze, your mother’s words still ringing through your thoughts. “But it certainly would making living here easier.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aayyy, we finally have some background as to why they got married (though I'm sure the tags have some of it away). As always, this wasn't beta read and will be subject to editing if I find any typos :^)


	19. Fat

Millicent was getting fat. 

You frowned and let the orange cat go as she attempted to wiggle out of your grasp. While the cat had grown accustomed to your presence and no longer felt the need to hide every time you stepped into the same room, actual physical contact with the cat was still rare. Yet the few times you'd been able to hold the cat, you begun to notice a weight change. Even Hux had commented on it.

Sitting at the kitchen table alone with your lunch, you stared at Millicent, who in return stared back from where she was seated by her bowl. One, two, three, fo-... She meowed, scenting the air while one paw curled up to her chest.

“Millie, you already ate,” you said with mild frustration. Could it be that she was getting fed more than twice a day? You'd never actually discussed Millicent’s care with Hux, though you'd been able to figure out a general feeding schedule for her just by watching Hux, but…

_He has been getting back rather late recently._

* * *

 

The loft was dark and warm when Hux returned to his quarters; which mean that you had already gone to bed. Removing his hat and shedding his coat, he reached for the kitchen light and set the lighting on dim.

And as if on queue, Millicent was there, arching her back and pressing herself against the side of his boot. The cat glanced up at him, her green eyes wide as she meowed up at him. Reaching down to card his fingers through her fur, he noticed the small, folded note tucked under her collar where she wouldn't be able to reach it.

 _“My meows are a lie. I have been fed.”_  It read in neat and loopy script.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus cookie for you if you know what internet thing inspired this chapter :^D


	20. Appreciate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Under the table, Millicent pressed up against your bare legs and toes, before meandering over to rub her chin against Hux’s polished boots.

“I suggest we set up a feeding schedule for Millie,” Hux commented the next morning from where he stood by the counter. You paused mid bite of your breakfast to stare at the back of his head.

The soft burbling of the coffee maker that the general had been tinkering with filled the air; the rich aroma of the imported coffee filled your head with pleasant and warm thoughts.

“If I fed her in the morning and you wouldn’t mind feeding her in the evening,” he continued as he reached into the white cabinets above the sleek stone counter top, and produced two coffee mugs. “We could solve her… weight problem.”

“I wouldn’t mind,” you said, perhaps a little too quickly. “I hope you didn’t mind that I started feeding her in the evenings. You’ve been arriving later than usual the past few days and I thought…” You trailed off as you watched Hux join you at the table and presenting you with one of the mugs. A soft  _ ‘thank you’ _ slipped your lips as you accepted the hot beverage.

“I don’t,” the general replied simply. “I…  _ appreciate _ that you did.” The words sounded odd coming from his lips, both to your ears and his own, judging by the slight furrow of his brows and the downwards twitch of the corners of his mouth. 

Under the table, Millicent pressed up against your bare legs and toes, before meandering over to rub her chin against Hux’s polished boots.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry that I haven't been updating lately. For a while I ran out of ideas (and then motivation), and then my nephews from Finland came to visit for a few weeks. So, the past two weeks have been super busy (and filled with a lot of traveling on top of school and work). However, I've been toying with a new story idea, which would be a Horse AU! for Star Wars. It was going to be another Hux/Reader fanfiction, but I'm starting to see it more of as a Kylo Ren/Reader story. I don't know-- I'm still throwing ideas around and trying to figure out names and breeds for horses, as well as trying to figure out what each character would specialize in what.


	21. Moment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The general and his wife have a moment, and in that moment, something changes.

It became almost a ritual to the two of you.

On the days that everyone’s holopads chirped with a note about a closed off section on base due to… damaged equipment, you stayed up late in your sleep wear with a glass of the general’s favorite. When he’d walk in, weary after a long day of dealing with a never ending list of tasks, incompetent lieutenants that kept getting caught underfoot, and most importantly, the bane of his existence, Kylo Ren; he never argued when you helped remove the dark grey coat he donned every morning. He’d accept the offered drink with a small sound of gratitude, and then sink into the cushions of his favorite leather arm chair.

You’d claim your seat on the arm couch to the left of him, remaining at a distance away that was both appropriately close, yet politely distant. 

General Hux, while making the occasional frustration addled ill remark about the knight, never did embark on a rude tirade about him, at least not to you. Rather, the gentle stillness of your quiet evening with the general would be broken with soft inquiries about your adventures in adjusting to the life on the icy planet that also served as a superweapon, as well as living with a four legged animal.You’d recount your tales of chasing Millicent about the apartment as well as prying her out of cabinets with fondness. 

One particular evening, when you’d glanced up in the middle of yet another misadventure involving said feline, you caught a certain look of fondness across the man’s face - a look of fondness that would only describe the fondness that you felt in you chest. Hux’s head tipped to the side, meeting your gaze with his own, and _something_ in the space between you shifted.

Your breath hitched, and subconsciously you straightened your back. The air felt heavy with… with _something_ that you didn't know how to describe, and you were certain that the general could feel it too, for his own shoulders suddenly squared. 

And as if on queue, Millicent tottered into the room with bright eyes and tail quivering, and just like that, the moment was over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not updating in a while, I've been having a massive case of writers block when it came to this series, and then I went to Disney and met Kylo Ren :^)


	22. Offer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the general makes his wife an offer.

The conversation had started innocently enough. You had casually asked the general about his childhood over dinner. For a split second he appeared almost reluctant to share, but after a stifling minute, explained that as a young boy he’d traveled a lot with his father and other officials. You had a sneaking suspicion that there was much more to the story with how rigidly he sat, but opted not to push.

As if sensing the awkwardness settling between the two of you, he steered to topic to something else. Namely his military career that appeared to start at a rather young age. He spent little time on details, much to your relief. Not because you had no interest, but simply because you had little understanding in all things military, from its function to ranks and terms. Your mother had groomed you into a politician, not a soldier, after all.

“Tell me, [First Name], have you ever fired a blaster before?”

You paused, fork in your mouth, to stare at your husband with a wide eyed look before setting your eating utensil down.

“No, mother felt it improper for a lady to use such a tool,” you explained after managing to choke down your bite of food. “She did insist that I have some sort of self-defense abilities, though I’m afraid I’m a little out of practice.”

He hummed thoughtfully while cutting into his steak, but then asked the unexpected:  
  
“Would you be interested in learning if I offered to teach you?”


	23. Intimidated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the general teaches his wife how to fire a blaster.

And that’s how you found yourself in _trousers and boots_ while being escorted down the hallway by two stormtroopers that General Hux had sent to collect you. You had agreed to meet him at the blaster ranger an hour after lunch for your first lesson. Anxiety and eagerness roiled in the pit of your stomach. While you’d never fired a blaster, you were well aware of the damage that it could do. Yet, the prospect of interacting with the general outside of your quarters filled you with nervous excitement.

Your poor, late mother must be rolling in her grave. You could almost hear her voice in your head - _m_ _y daughter, a royal princess, no less- in_ _trousers and firing blasters ! Has the galaxy fallen into barbaric times?_

The stormtroopers paused at the door to the blaster range and bid you a courteous farewell, to which you politely nodded your head before stepping into the room. The first thing you noticed about the room was that it was brightly lit and vast. You blinked several times to adjust to the lighting, before taking note of the lone figure at the range. The head of copper colored hair was familiar to you, but the object in his hands was not. You paled slightly.

You weren’t going to be firing that, were you? Opting to remain quiet and out of the way, you watched with rapt interest as the general stared down the scope of a rather sleek looking sniper rifle. He took his time, and after one exhale, fired.

Rather than the loud sound of a standard blaster gun, the sound was more on the quiet side. The plasma ray was thin and neat, yet near white with raw energy. The mark it had left on its target had been small, clean, and a killshot had the general been firing at a living target. In that moment your breath had left. The general stood upright, rifle in hand.

The sight had been thrumming with the kind of power that intimated you, yet you found yourself unable to look away.

“You’re wearing trousers.” He sounded like he approved.

“Yes, yes I am,” you found yourself replying, still in awe. Your feet, as if on autopilot, carried you easily over to the general. “I felt it to be more appropriate.” Relief washed over you as watched him remove the power cell of the rifle and place the blaster neatly into its  white case.

“Do not fret, my dear wife, I’d never have you fire something this high powered,” he said rather casually. Turning to a much smaller, black case next to the rifle case, he pulled out a much smaller looking blaster. “At least not yet.”  
  
“...”

“You look scandalized by the idea,” he chuckled before gently guiding you by your lower back to stand in front of him. “Here, let us begin. We only have an hour before I must be off."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a huge sucker for sniper!Hux.


	24. Routine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phasma takes the Reader under her wing.

With a soft grunt, your padded fist collided against the punching mitt on Phasma’s hand.

“Again, keep your wrist straight,” the tall woman instructed, “come one - punch through! Two inches!”

She was relentless with her taunts, now that you’d more or less learned how to punch correctly. Occasionally she would correct you when you angled your wrist in too much, or your first wasn’t level with your shoulder. However, such comments were becoming few and far inbetween. 

You’d been rather pleased when Captain Phasma showed up at your quarters one afternoon, extending an offer to continue to teach you self-defense. Seeing that you’d told only one person about your minimal self-defense training, you’d taken a guess that General Hux must have mentioned it to her. You were flattered that he’d remembered, but a little putoff by it as well. You understood that there was a chance of an assault at any moment, and that the First Order would be waging war against the Galactic Republic sometime in the near future; but learning how to fire a blaster, and now being taught how to assault another rather than just being taught how to disarm someone and break free from hold. 

Alas, you kept your mouth shut about it and simply rolled with the punches. Despite the light bruising and soreness in the morning, you rather enjoyed being able to leave your quarters and do something other than chase Millicent around and read. 

Phasma was merciless in her regiment, but the more sessions the two of your had, the easier you found it to be able to keep up. Throwing punches and kicks became easier, and your confidence skyrocketed. Most of your sessions with the captain involved weight and endurance training rather than just her teaching you hand-to-hand, whereas cardio training was a bit of a homework situation. 

With a fierce cry that manage to catch the captain off guard, you lunged at her mid-section and managed to knock her to the ground. However, your victory was short lived as the taller and bulkier woman wrangled you into a pancake trap.

"You're getting better."  
  
"Thanks," you managed to wheeze out, breathless, just as she released you.

By the end of the month, it was all a routine to you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Hux here, but I want the Reader and Phasma to become friends :-)


	25. Butterfly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, hello! It's been quite some time, yeah? We're finally starting to reach some plot-ty bits, isn't that exciting? I actually have like... twelve chapters outlined, and I just need to actually type them out and play around with them. Though for now, I give you something light and sweet!

"Wait, wait -" you stopped the General as you neatly folded some summer dresses into the suitcase you'd laid out on the floor. "Why exactly are we attending this wedding?"

"Because it's the wedding of one the high ranking officers, and an important one," came Hux's weary but patient voice from the deep bowels of your shared closet. There was a pause before he added:

"Do you really have the same dress in four different shades?"

He sounded quite perplexed as he ran his fingers through the thin material of said dresses, flipping back and fourth between the first and fourth dress. Was this one darker than the other one? Though Hux was quick to give up, for the longer he stared at the two dresses, the more they started to look the same. You flushed and tsked at him.

"Never mind my dresses!" you laughed as you walked across the bedroom to join him in the wonderland of heavy and dark fabrics.

"Besides, I figured that you would appreciate the change in scenery and climate," your husband offered offhandedly as he went through his own formal wear.

"Yes I would," you replied with a jovial laugh before you planted an impromptu peck to his cheek that startled you both. You stared at one another for a long moment, wide eyed and dare you say it - frightened?

The moment, fragile like a butterfly's wing was not like anything you'd ever experienced before, and it both frightened and thrilled you.

"Thank you," you whispered, not wanting to shatter this moment.


End file.
